SCALPEL
by Thora Arwin
Summary: NEW chapter(2)! Break My Heart, Hawkeye. Hawkeye Pierce, Hot Lips Houlihan, Radar O'Reilly and the rest of the familiar characters make their appearance in this 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital fanfic story.
1. Chapter 1: Break My Heart, Hawkeye

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Title: S*C*A*L*P*E*L

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Author: Thora Arwin

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Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. All for fun.

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Category: Gen/Het

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Summary: A normal day in the OR.

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Chapter: 1/?

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E-mail: xxxylin@yahoo.com

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Note: The open heart surgery Hawk's referring to was performed on September 2, 1952. Two University of Minnesota surgeons, Dr. Walton Lillehei and Dr. John Lewis, attempted this surgery on a five-year-old girl who had been born with a hole in her heart.

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Feedback: Well… I'd most definitely like some, lol!

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*****S*C*A*L*P*E*L***** 

Chapter 01

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Break My Heart, Hawkeye 

"Scalpel, Lieutenant."

"Scalpel, Doctor."

"Clamp."

"Clamp."

"Sex?"

"Doctor?" 

Hawkeye suggestively waggled his eyebrows. "Had to try," he said with a cheeky grin. "This hernia operation was getting kind of boring."

BJ snorted, then asked for a clamp himself. "Frank's patient would give anything for a _boring_ operation." He shot a glare at Frank Burns who was sweating at the table on the other side of the operating room, up to elbows in blood. "Problems, Frank?" 

"No!" Frank's face twisted underneath his mask. "Why don't you two mind your own business and let a surgeon do his work!"

Hawkeye looked up, impressed. "_Surgeon_? Thought it was Frank disguised as a nurse."

BJ laughed, then made a stitch. "That would be Klinger."

"Oh, damn, I thought I flirted with a new female doctor in pre-op."

"You're too much into detail." 

Their attention swayed back to the operating room when Margaret stomped her foot.

"That's absolutely disgusting!" she shrieked. "Colonel, I say you apply some Army rules, Sir. We're not in a circus. Some of us are trying to work!"

"Work?" BJ asked suspiciously.

Hawkeye shrugged and returned to repairing the opening in the muscle wall of his patient. "She never ceases to amaze me."

BJ grinned. "Margaret, or the hernia?" 

"Do I have to chose, or can I have both?"

Margaret's jaw dropped open. "Colonel, this is enough! I call for some rules! We're in the Army!"

The Colonel sighed and threw away a bloody tampon. "Wishing there was no Army, Major. Junior here's got a shrapnel stuck in his heart and I'm afraid my capabilities won't do him much good."

Hawkeye glanced up. "Need help, Colonel?"

"Could do, Pierce."

"All right," he gestured to BJ. "Beej, can you finish this for me?"

BJ wiped his hands. "What you got there, Hawk?" He nodded to the nurse. "Can you close this for me, Lieutenant?"

"I think so, Doctor." 

"Good. Hawkeye?"

Hawkeye stretched his back, the comical pop in his shoulders reminding him they'd been in the OR for over twelve hours now and there seemed to be more patients in line than when they'd started. "Did herniorrhaphy," he told BJ. "But I think you'll have to reinforce the muscle with a wire." 

"Will do."

Still stretching, he quickly made his way around the tables, the patients and Father Mulcahy, over to the Colonel's table. 

"What's up?" he asked, inspecting the wound. 

Momentarily he glanced at the soldier's face. A boy, maybe eighteen, with shrapnel cuts all over his pale cheeks and blue lips. His straw-blond hair was dotted with dried blood. Hawkeye sighed and shook his head.

"We need to slow his heart rate, Pierce. Sew up the hole from the shrapnel."

"Do you want me to pull a rabbit out of my hat too?"

The Colonel rolled his eyes and said in a serious tone, "we can't send him down to Seoul, he wouldn't last the trip."

"And he's going to die without surgery."

"I know you've read about this last week, Captain."

The tall, dark-haired doctor paused. "You mean cool the body to 81 degrees F, clamp the inflow of the heart and pray I sew up the hole in less than ten minutes?"

"That's the plan, Hawkie."

"Colonel, the first time anyone did an open-heart surgery like this was a month ago in Minnesota in extremely clean surroundings with two skilled professionals and a special cooling blanket. I'm more likely to pull that rabbit out of my hat- if I had one."

"Well, you can do that as well if you want." Sherman rocked on his heels. "But it's time the world saw the third professional, Son." He stepped back from the table to allow Hawkeye some space. "Get a tub ready, people! And get Pierce lots of ice!" 

Hawkeye sighed, then turned to the immobile boy on the table in front of him. One grenade could do such damage. Rip off a person's leg or… He found he couldn't finish on the thought so he eradicated it. He wondered if the goddamned war would ever end. And if the kid would get to see the end of it.

Bracing himself for the tough operation, he watched the nurses rush past to get ice.

"While you're at it," he called out sarcastically, "get me a second pair of hands. I'll need them."

After a few precious minutes they managed to lower the boy's body into the metal tub filled with ice. He'd been anaesthetized to stop him from shivering. 

"Good luck, Son." Potter nodded at Hawkeye from his new table and new patient. "Gloves."

Hawkie took a deep breath and turned all of his attention to the boy in the tub. "Minnesota, here I come," he muttered to himself. 

BJ gave him an assuring smile through his mask while adjusting the steel mesh into the muscle wall of Hawk's hernia patient. "If anyone can do it, it's you."

"It'll take a miracle to save this kid, BJ."

"Or you." 

Hawkeye glanced sideways and watched Margaret come stand next to him. Her voice was firm; she seemed pretty sure.

He locked his eyes with hers.

"I'm going to assist you, Captain," she said, tearing her gaze away from his and getting the instruments ready.

He grinned. "Be my guest, Major. But I'm not sure I'll be able to concentrate with you so close to me."

Margaret shot him a glare. "You better."

"Or else?" he chuckled.

Major Houlihan screwed up her face. "I'm very good with a needle. You _remember_."

Hawkeye brought his hand up to his heart in fake agony. "Ouch." Then he smirked. "Where and when? I'm all yours, Margaret."

"Oh, go stuff a duck, Pierce," Frank spat. "Why can't there be more normal surgeons in here?"

"Like you, Frank?" Hawk asked.

"Like ducks?" BJ tried.

Frank groaned, the nurse next to him wiping his sweaty forehead for the third time in five minutes. "You two are just _incredible_. Nurse! Forehead!"

"I just did, Major."

"Then do it again!" 

BJ raised a brow at Hawkeye and they shared a look.

Frank scoffed. "Plain incredible," he muttered again.

"Not like you, Frank."

Frank looked up. "Oh, really?" Then his eyes lit up. "Incredible as in incredible?" His IQ seemed to drop with every second in the OR. "Why, you mean that, Pierce?"

"Definitely," Hawkeye said. "You're incredibly stupid."

"Extraordinarily stupid," BJ added.

"Is that a word?"

"If it isn't, can I make it up?"

Frank threw his hands up, the scalpel almost grazing the nurse's cheek. "Duhhh, shut up you two!"

"Frank," Hawkeye said seriously, taking the gloves from Margaret, "your patient. That soldier would like that shrapnel out of his gut by St. Patrick's Day. And your nurse would like to keep both eyes."

"I hate you, Pierce. If it were for me, you'd roast in hell."

"The soldier, Frank."

"He can wait. I'm not finished with you!"

Sherman Potter shook his head in agitation. "Major, hold your horses. Clamp…" he threw away another bloody tampon. "…we'd all be grateful if you'd shut your mouth, Burns. Or shut yourself away completely."

"_Colonel_?!"

"Come see me in my office, Burns." He seemed to re-think that. "After we're finished in here."

"It'll be my pleasure, Colonel."

"Pleasure's on your side."

Hawkeye grinned. "I couldn't do it better myself, Sherm."

"That's Colonel to you, Pierce. Tampon."

BJ made another stitch and looked up from his table. "You ok over there, Hawk?"

"Couldn't be better. Just waiting for his temperature to drop."

"You'll be fine."

Hawkeye gritted his teeth. "Say that to the kid."

Margaret stopped rattling with the instruments and checked the thermometer. "Temperature 81 degrees F, Doctor."

He inhaled deeply through his nose. "Ok. Let's tango, Margaret. Scalpel."

* * * * *


	2. Chapter 2: Break My Heart, Hawkeye part ...

"Scalpel, Doctor."

Hawkeye exhaled deep through his nose, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His eyes were watery, bloodshot; tired eyes of a surgeon who'd been standing in the OR for over twelve hours without rest, taking legs and arms, and sewing torn torsos back together. He had had enough.

Major Houlihan stepped closer to him, her shoulder brushing his. It was a simple gesture and he was grateful for it, for the brief closeness and the heat coming off of her, giving him a feeling he was not so alone in the face of his difficult task.

He considered thanking her but thought better of it. How come he felt so alone today?

"Thanks, Major." Well, so much for not thanking her.

"It's okay, Doctor."

He'd always been fascinated by her. She was the strongest woman he'd ever met. Stronger than most men he'd seen, in fact. Radar was the one who made MASH function on the official side, but she was the one who held the moral of the people high.

He asked for Metzenbaum scissors.

"Metz, Doctor."

The kid's heart was still beating slowly and time was ticking away.

"Dammit, I might as well be operating blindfolded," he muttered. "I can't see a thing with all this blood in there. Suction."

The Colonel looked up from his table. 

"Pierce, everything alright?" he asked. He seemed worried. Probably because he knew how hard Hawkeye took death. He'd become a doctor to fight it. And still it was not enough. 

"I'm _fine_!"

BJ glanced at the Colonel and they both sighed.

Frank seemed pleased, though. "What, Pierce is having problems over there?" His ferret eyes skipped from BJ to Hawkeye and back again. He snickered. "I'd love to help him, Colonel. But I'm in the middle of a _very_ difficult operation."

"Shut up, Frank!" Margaret snapped. "No one's in the mood for your babbling."

Hawkeye glanced up at her. He gave her an amused look. 

"_Babbling_?" Frank started chewing on his lips. "What's eating you, Major? Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscott stopped writing?" He threw away a bloody tampon and paused. His eyes lit up when his own joke reached his brain and he started laughing. "Get it?" he said. "Stopped. Writing. Hahahaha!"

"Shut up, Frank," everyone said in unison and he shut his mouth, looking hurt.

Hawkeye seemed lost in his own world, though. Margaret patted his forehead with the cloth. She was so close he could smell the posh perfume she'd bought in Tokyo.

"Ooh, _Margaret_… Clamp… What _is _that smell?"

"What?" she asked, confused. 

He loved it when she was unsure of herself. 

"That perfume. If you stand any closer it might knock me out."

She stepped back, fuming.

Hawkeye chuckled, bending over the patient again.

"Well," she said, aggravated, "my—"

Hawk furrowed his brows, checking the clock. "Okay, needle."

She quickly handed him the needle. "—my perfume is _lots_ better than the cheap soap _you_ are using, Captain."

He looked sideways at her, impressed she began where she'd left off. Professional in every way. 

Margaret caught his look and he could've sworn she was blushing underneath the mask. 

"Relax, Major," he said, smiling, running the needle through the kid's heart muscle. "I'm loving it. How about we meet up after this operation under a jeep- and mix and match your perfume and my soap."

"In _your_ dreams, Captain."

He waggled his brows. "Every night."

She shook her head, absolutely disgusted.

A moment passed, the clock ticking away in Hawkeye's head. 

"How's he doing?" he asked nurse Able. 

"Stable, Doctor."

"Good. I'm almost there." The cut open heart was still slowly beating and he quickly finished sewing up the hole in its muscle wall. 

"Time, Margaret?"

"Two more minutes."

"Okay," he said, inhaling deep, "I'm ready to close."

Everyone in the OR looked up, grinning with relief. Except for Frank.

"I knew it!" BJ called out. "I knew he could do it!"

The Colonel was nodding, knowingly. 

"God dammit, I _knew_ it!" BJ started laughing. "I knew he was the best!"

Hawkeye covered his chest with his hands. "Ooh, don't look at me like that, Beej! I'm not undressing for you in the showers again!"

BJ was still laughing. "Oh, shut up, you Yack."

The nurses started clapping. Frank started whining.

Hawkeye grinned. "The world's greatest surgeon has a free night tonight, and tomorrow, and the night after that. Anyone of you lovely ladies want to spend it with him?" He was visibly relaxed now. And everyone knew he deserved it. "The Swamp, cockroaches, my amazing lips on your neck and the hazy moon through the hole in the roof…?"

The women moaned and playfully threw what they had at hand at him. 

He ducked the cloths, laughing. "I promise not to break your heart!"

Margaret rolled her eyes and the nurses blurted out, "oh, _shut up_, Hawkeye!" when his joke clicked.

The boy had been immersed in a bath of warm water to bring the body temperature back to normal. The operation had been a success. 

Hawkeye staggered out of the OR into the prickly heat of day.

"Tired?" 

BJ blinked against the Sun and shot Hawkeye a big pearl-white grin. 

Hawk groaned and rested his back against the shabby building. "I feel like an ad for dead." His hand went to his forehead and he rubbed his eyes with his palms. "What day is it?"

"No idea."

"That's comforting, Beej."

"You heading for the showers?"

"If I don't pass out on the way there."

BJ started laughing. "Now, c'mon, Hawk. You're fine."

Hawkeye raised a tired brow. "Fine as in fine? Or as in _fine _fine?" He yawned. "If you don't answer me I might fine you."

BJ smirked. "Margaret said you were great."

"Did she?" 

They started for the Swamp. Hawkie kicked a stone on his way.

BJ continued, "Potter said he thinks you deserve a medal for something like that."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think you need that shower."

"_Very_ funny."

BJ pulled the door to the Swamp open and let Hawkeye in. Hawkeye took one step then collapsed the rest of the way to the bunk. 

"Aaaahhh, in bed at last," he murmured into the pillow. 

BJ grinned and sat down. "And too lazy to walk?"

Hawkeye opened his mouth to snap a witty comment back at him but he was cut off by an announcement that made BJ grin even bigger. 

"_Attention, all weary personnel of the 4077th. Colonel Potter wishes to express his thanks for our efforts during the last two days. All requests for overtime are denied as always but at least tonight's broken film seems promising._" 

"That's not promising," Hawkeye grunted, watching Beej pick up his socks and needle. "You know what's promising?" 

"Naw, what?" BJ smelled his socks, then made a stitch.

"Promising is a night with a nurse in the supply tent. _That's_ promising." Hawkeye threw the pillow at BJ. "Now would you pleeease put those socks away? The odor is… _striking_."

"I like them." 

"Yes, youlike them." Hawkeye sat up to untie his shoelaces. "That's the problem, Beej. _You _like them. And _never_ wash them."

"Peg send them over."

"So…?"

"For me to wear, Hawk."

Hawkeye took off one boot then gave BJ a look. "If those socks don't leave the Swamp in five seconds," he said, leaning forward, pointing at them, "I promise I'll write to Peg and tell her what kind of a pig she married." 

"Oh, you wouldn't."

"I would."

"You wouldn't."

Hawkeye gave him a cheesy grin. "Oh, yes I _wooould_," he chirped, kicking his comically long legs up onto the bunk and resting his back against the sheet, hands going behind his head.

"_Hawkeye_!"

"Try me!" Hawk abruptly sat up again and grabbed himself a pen and piece of paper off of the table. "Dear… Pe-ggy," he scribbled, "I'm… wri-ting… to… tell you… that—"

BJ snorted and tore the paper out of Hawk's hands. "Ok, _ok_! I'll wash them. There. You happy?"

"Yes." Hawk's singsong voice echoed through the tent. "Yes, yes, yes."

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

BJ rolled his eyes then glanced at the paper Hawk had been writing on- and then he started laughing. "Oh God," he managed to choke out. "Oh God!" His shoulders were shaking so much it looked like they were going to fall off of his body. He sunk down onto his bunk laughing so much he had tears in his eyes.

Hawkeye watched him like he'd just gone crazy. "What?" 

"Oh, Ha-awkk…" BJ gasped for breath and when he found he couldn't take more air into his lungs he started laughing harder. His back sunk into the mattress, his stomach muscles flinching under his shirt. "He-he-here," he wheezed, waving the paper in front of Hawk's face. "Whoa…"

Hawkeye narrowed his eyes, stood up and snatched the note out of BJ's hands. 

"You wanted to…" BJ began, "…you wanted to write to Peg on… on… _that_!" he sputtered out.

Hawkeye turned the piece of paper in his hands and saw he'd scribbled the letter to Peg down on his shopping list—

--for last year's issues of _Applied Nudism_. 

He snorted. "So…?"

BJ couldn't stop choking. "Ohh…" he pointed at Hawkeye and burst out laughing again. "Ohh boy… oh _boy_…"

Hawkeye shook his head, then scrunched the note up in his fist and threw it against the door. 

Just then Margaret burst through. She didn't even notice the paper ball hitting her square in the face. She was pale as chalk and absolutely out of breath. Hawk immediately knew something was wrong.

"_Hawkeye_…" she said. And he knew what had happened, her words only confirming it. "The kid's in shock."

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End file.
